The Lifeless Light: A Tale from Dema

Chapter Four: Blurry Lines

We trekked below the city until the stars glimmered above us. Once again, I was finally out. I took a deep breath, relishing the crisp, fresh air that Dema lacked. Trench always filled me with hope—an exuberant energy that welled inside my chest.

Within a couple of hours of walking through the rugged terrain, our torch-lit group approached a gathering of makeshift tents near the edge of a chasm—about 12 miles southeast of Dema, judging by the scale of the city's skyline. Flags of gold and dusty-green flew high above, branded with the emblem of a vulture.

Thin trails of campfire smoke traced up to the sky. Others dressed in worn Bandito clothing wandered around camp, busy finishing their tasks or taking a rest as the evening came to an end.

Each of them wore their bright yellow tape in different manners. Some wrapped the branding around their arms or legs, while others strapped it across their torso or down the back of their jacket.

On the journey to camp, I decided to wear mine straight across my chest in a horizontal line. It wasn't my most creative work, but it didn't need to be. Rather, it expressed my status as a new recruit—someone who had only begun to unravel the mystery of Dema and the truth about the only world I knew.

I was a mere line in the middle of a vast realm, full of potential ... fervently seeking it.

After I finished placing my tape, Joshua introduced his friend—the man from Trench. His name was Tyler. They did not speak about much else on the journey, as Joshua lead the way and Tyler seemed more introspective. Yet as we entered the edge of camp, Tyler looked to Joshua and broke his silence.

"I want to be initiated this time," he said. His voice was naturally unsteady and quaint, but sincere.

"Are you sure?" Joshua questioned.

Tyler flashed a faint smile, "You need to stop worrying Josh ... I stopped a long time ago."

"Then so be it," he said, as a smirk spread across his face. "But are you only asking to spend more time around her?"

Tyler snorted, "I promise my intentions to become part of this movement are honest—spending time with her is a wholly separate pursuit."

"Then why don't you go tell her that you have my blessing?"

Tyler made eye contact with a blue-eyed woman sitting on a supply crate eating an apple. They smiled at each other, before he left the incoming group to speak with her.

One by one, the Banditos from Dema dispersed about the camp until three of us remained: me, Joshua, and Brenton, who seemed to be his right-hand advisor.

I spoke up, "So I must ask ... how did this begin?"

"Pretty simple," Joshua replied. "We got fed up with the Bishops' distorted law. We knew Dema wasn't supposed to be like this ... it wasn't for years."

"Then what happened?"

He paused and furrowed his brow, "You don't know?"

I stumbled, "I ... I don't. Vialism has been enacted for as long as I can remember."

"How old are you?" he inquired.

"22 years, sir."

"I see", he said all too calmly. "It started about nine years ago. It was small at first, nothing that would alarm the public. But piece by piece—section by section—it became more oppressive ... unapologetically cruel."

"What bishop were you governed by?"

He hesitated, "...Nico."

"Nico?" I repeated.